


Chariots of the Gods

by lucidscreamer



Series: The Shadow Wars Chronicle [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Ancient Egypt, Angst, Duel Monsters are real, Family Drama, Family Relationships - Freeform, Friendship, Giant Mecha, Kaiba family feels, M/M, Millennium Items, Non-graphic mentions of past child abuse/neglect, Off-screen death of a secondary character, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Puzzleshipping, Romance, Sci-Fi, Slash, Space Opera, War, Yami and Seto are cousins, Yami has his own body from the beginning, Yami is a Kaiba, all the things, flirtations, magical powers, no actual card duels, robots in space, science-fantasy, sentient AIs, slow building relationship, space colonies, the Kaibas are a hot mess, the Shadow Realm, well except one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucidscreamer/pseuds/lucidscreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fate of the worlds depends on a young man, his shattered soul, and a golden puzzle. Ancient magic, alien invaders, giant robots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chariots of the Gods

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings: Eventual Yami/Yugi romance; mild depictions of past Yami/Anzu (arranged engagement); there are also some minor flirtations and minimal mentions of existing romantic relationships among other characters. None of these relationships ever becomes the focus of the plot. The Yami/Yugi romance doesn't really heat up until book two, by the way. It simply refused to go any faster, despite my best efforts to the contrary.
> 
> Potential-Trigger Warnings: Depictions of futuristic battle and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder; non-graphic allusions to past child-abuse and family dramas (the Kaibas); character whump and death(s). 
> 
> Date of last revision: 07-10-2012 
> 
> This story has been substantially revised since its original posting. If you've read this story before, I highly recommend at least skimming through the early chapters before going on to the newest ones. 
> 
> Changes in the revised and updated version:
> 
> I have replaced the scene breaks that FFnet removed. Again. (Ye olde author is not amused at having been forced to do this once, much less multiple times. If it happens again, I wash my hands of the whole thing. You can read the story, with intact scene breaks, on AO3.) 
> 
> In order to balance the flow of the plot and fill in some gaping holes, scenes and even whole chapters have been expanded, contracted, revised, and/or re-ordered. It is for this reason that I recommend re-reading the story from the beginning. Also, some events referenced in the prequel ficlets have been added into the new scenes/chapters. (See my profile for a timeline of the entire Chariots universe.)
> 
>  
> 
> Miscellaneous author's notes:
> 
> Ancient Egypt: I have used ancient Egyptian proper names (for places, people, etc.), including changing some of the characters' names to better fit the period (for ex. Karim becomes Kawab). I have only used ancient Egyptian terms where the modern translation falls short. Some concepts (such as ma'at and that of the ka) simply do not translate well. Finally, while I have attempted to bring things closer to historical accuracy in terms of the ancient Egyptian elements, allowances must be made for YGO canon elements (such as the Millennium Items and Shadow magic), as well as the fantastical nature of the plot. The "magic ritual" in the prologue is in no way meant to conform to actual ancient Egyptian practices.
> 
> Story Present: The main setting for this story is several hundred years into the future, so there is a lot of "futuristic" technology that I'm making up as I go along. I do try to extrapolate from real science, but there are some instances where, for the sake of storytelling, I fudge things a bit. For example, I'm well aware of the gravitational differences between Earth and Mars. However, I'm handwaving that the technology of the time in which this story is set has some means of compensating for that difference, so there is no recovery period for characters when moving between the planets and various space-stations and colonies. Let's just say they have very good artificial gravity generators or something.
> 
> Since this is a science fiction story, there are some invented terms cropping up here and there, though I do attempted to keep them to a minimum. I believe they're explained adequately in-story, but you can find a glossary of sorts in my Dreamwidth journal, as well as more in-depth story notes (aka "DVD commentary"), including the various in-jokes that have found their way into this universe. You can find me on Dreamwidth as "lucidscreamer."
> 
> Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is the creation of Kazuki Takahashi. The futuristic setting, original sci-fi elements of this story, and all original characters therein are the creation of Lucidscreamer. This story is not a fusion of YGO with an existing giant robot/mecha anime or any other existing commercial property, though the author acknowledges influences from various '70s and '80s books and television programs. 
> 
>  
> 
> The current revisions have been edited solely by me, and all remaining mistakes and eccentricities are my own.

# Chariots of the Gods

_Book One of the Shadow Wars Chronicles_

(A Yu-Gi-Oh! alternate universe fanfic novel)

By Lucidscreamer

 

## Prologue

In what should have been the still hours of the morning, the gray pre-dawn was filled with the roar of monstrous creatures of metal and Shadow locked in battle. A suffocating pall of dust hung in the air over Waset, thrown up by the impact of the combatants each time they collided with the earth or a building. The huge bodies of the creatures pulverized mudbrick and granite with equal ease. Nothing was safe. Neither the palace, halfway across the city, nor the sprawling temple complex that housed the great stone tablets of the Shadow Beasts, had escaped the destruction.

 

As the ground shook with the impact of an enormous body plowing into it nearby, a tall man dressed in the long, pleated kilt of a Servant of the God raced along the broad avenue of ram-headed sphinxes leading into the Shrine of Wedju, the place of the tablets. His clothing was of the finest royal linen, but it was torn now and stained with grime. Sweat left muddy streaks in the thin layer of dust coating his face and shaved scalp, and the kohl outlining his blue eyes was smeared. He had long since abandoned his formal wig and the dignified gate befitting a nobleman. Bareheaded and panting, he ran as if all the demons of the night were snapping at his heels, his reed sandals slapping against the paving stones.

 

On a normal day, the complex would have bustled with life and noise, as the temple was practically a city unto itself. In addition to the Pure Ones going about the business of maintaining the various shrines and tending to the needs of the open statues which housed the _kau_ of the Gods, there should have been scribes and students in the House of Life, and the craftsman, artisans, and musicians who served the temple, each attending to their duties. Now, not even the porter or the soldiers who should have guarded the enormous pylon gates remained. Like the majority of Waset's inhabitants, they had fled both the city and the battle.

 

Inside a smaller chapel branching off from the main shrine, three priests --  two men and a woman -- awaited the arrival of the fourth. A lone palace guard, dressed in a short kilt and plain copper jewelry, leaned with his spear against the back wall. The four priests exchanged worried glances as something huge screamed overhead, raising gooseflesh on the bodies of all who heard it. The terrible thing crashed into the ground nearby, and the tremors from the impact threatened to knock them all off their feet. The gathered priests clung to their dignity and their Items, and tried without success to ignore the toppling statues and chunks of white plaster that thudded to the floor around them. The stoic soldier did not even flinch when a hunk of painted ceiling slammed into the tiles and shattered at his feet.

 

Seti, holder of the Scepter of a Thousand Years and the last of the priests to arrive at the shrine, scowled as he dodged an alabaster lamp shaken from its shoulder-high stand. Thin stone flakes, sharp as blades, sliced across his calves, leaving bright streaks of blood in their wake and spattering his legs with hot oil. Ignoring the pain, he stepped over the shattered lamp. His hawk-like gaze fell on his fellow priests and he allowed himself a derisive snort. As usual, he found his colleagues wanting. He associated with them because he must, but there was not one among them he could not best, nor any he trusted with the life and safety of their sovereign.

 

Another tremor shook the temple. Seti stumbled, his hand tightening its grip on the golden Scepter he held at his side. He wiped a slurry of dust, sweat, and blood from his eyes, opening them to find himself the object of intense scrutiny. The three other Chosen Priests gathered around him, worry etched on their faces. One of them, Shada, the priest who bore the Key of a Thousand Years, stepped forward.

 

"Where is His Majesty?" Shada's voice betrayed his fear, as did his white-knuckled grip on the Key. "We saw the attack on the palace. Is he--?"

 

"His Majesty lives." The flatness of the declaration belied Seti's own immense relief. He had witnessed the final collapse of the palace, its thick, mudbrick walls crushed beneath the massive bodies of the invaders' metal monsters. He had been certain that Pharaoh had perished, that his body lay buried beneath the rubble where no embalmer could reach it to prepare him for the journey into the afterlife. But the great Lord Amun was merciful, and Pharaoh had emerged from the ruins, safe in the arms of his most loyal Shadow creature.

 

Seti knew that nothing short of Mahaad's complete destruction would tear him from the Pharaoh's side. When he had still been a Chosen Priest, Mahaad had wielded the Thousand Year Ring. Through deceit and betrayal, a thief had taken the Ring and, with it, Mahaad's human life. During the battle, Mahaad had realized his death was nigh and had chosen to merge with his Shadow Beast so that he might continue to serve his beloved King.

 

"Where is Pharaoh? Is he safe?" Kawab, holder of the Thousand Year Scales, peered at Seti from beneath his crooked wig. His dark eyes were lined with malachite and strain. Unlike Shada, his robe was torn and half the beads were gone from the broad collar resting on his shoulders. When he moved, a few more beads came loose from their broken strings and trickled to the floor. "Is he coming?"

 

"He will be here." The anger in Seti's eyes made the other priest back away and drop his gaze. "Our Pharaoh, may he live a million years, will not fail us."

 

"No, of course not," Shada said. "We all have the utmost faith in Pharaoh, may he be blessed with life, strength, and health."

 

"Indeed, we do." Asetnofret, who had spoken in quiet agreement, was the sole woman present. Her beautiful face had settled back into its usual serene expression despite the intermittent concussions that continued to shake the temple. Her fine garments and heavy wig were in perfect order.

 

Her appearance was proof enough to Seti that she, like Shada, had chosen to shelter within the temple rather than attempting to combat the chaos raging outside. Perhaps they had prayed to the Gods while Seti had scrabbled through the ruins of the palace -- digging through rubble until his hands bled, calling for Pharaoh, all the while fearing he would be too late to do more than retrieve the King's body for the Servants of Anubis to embalm for entombment. Seti did not bother to hold back the expression of scorn which twisted his mouth as his gaze swept over the priestess. In the midst of this invasion, she was as useless as the others.

 

Apparently unaware of his contempt, Asetnofret allowed one of her slender hands to caress the golden Necklace at her throat. "His Majesty will do what he must."

 

At her words, Seti felt his fists clench. His jaw tightened, and he had to force the words from between his teeth. "You are so ready to condemn him to everlasting death?"

 

Asetnofret seemed taken aback by the harsh accusation in his voice. "It is not _I_ who would condemn him."

 

"No, of course not." He grated out the words. "You only encourage him with your Shadow-spawned _visions_ and cryptic prophesies."

 

"I have but spoken the truth of what the Thousand Year Necklace has shown me." Again, her fingers caressed the golden eye at the center of her Item. "Of what must be done to--"

 

"You merely echo the Shadows and all that they whisper to him." Seti refused to acknowledge his shudder as he recalled his conversations with Pharaoh about the Shadows. They had plagued His Majesty since the creation of the Items when the two of them still wore the side-lock of youth. "The Items were born of Shadow. Any vision they grant must remain suspect, for that reason if no other. The Shadows want Pharaoh and, once they have him, they will never let him go."

 

He started to turn away, only to stiffen as he felt Asetnofret's hand on his arm. He glared down at her, but the priestess met his ire with her usual calm determination.

 

"His Majesty, may he have life, prosperity and health, is strong. He has always been strong for us." Her soft tone belied the strength of her resolve. "Now, we must be strong for him... no matter how deeply it wounds us."

 

"Enough, Aset," Shada said. With a brief bow of her head, she obeyed, gliding back a step to stand beside Kawab, whose knuckles were white on the balance of his Scales.

 

"In truth, Pharaoh is unhurt?" Shada lowered his voice and leaned closer to Seti.

 

"His wounds are minor. Mahaad is with him."

 

"Praise be to the Great Lord Amun-Re." Shada sighed, and squared his shoulders beneath the fine linen of his robe. Unlike Seti's battle-stained and wrinkled attire, Shada's sheer white robe and calf-length kilt were spotless, their thin pleats as neat and crisp as if his body servant had just pressed them into place. "There is very little time left, if the ritual is to be accomplished."

 

Not bothering to conceal his anger, Seti said, "We cannot allow His Majesty to go through with this, this _travesty_. There _must_ be another way."

 

"You know there is not."

 

"Then I will offer myself in his place!" Seti shouted, startling Shada into falling back a step. "The Two Lands need him, now more than ever. He cannot be allowed to--"

 

"He alone can do this, Seti." Shada lowered his head, one hand stroking across the golden Key suspended on its heavy chain around his neck. "None of us, not even you, can hope to match the power of the Living Horus."

 

As much as it pained Seti to admit it, he knew the truth of the other priest's words. None of them could match the Pharaoh's skill at manipulating the magic of that other realm. None of them had his strange affinity for the Shadows. Of greater consideration, no other of them possessed the _ka_ of a God.

  
Seti stared at the decorated walls of the chapel, but his eyes were blind to the bright  painted frescoes. Instead of the previous King, the Osiris Akhnumkhanen, making an offering of _ma'at_ to the Great Lord Amun-Re, his mind's eye saw the Shrine of Wedju and the great stone tablets of the Shadow Beasts that rested within it. During Pharaoh Akhnumkhanen's reign, the Chosen Priests used the creatures to defend the Two Lands against invaders. The Beasts battled even now, but the metal soldiers of the enemy were an overwhelming force.

 

As the war progressed, Seti had found his faith in the strength of the Shadow Beasts waning. He had sought greater, more powerful creatures, enlisting Shada's aid to seek out strong _kau_ and doing whatever it took to increase the power of the Shadow Beast that could be drawn from them, even if it meant killing the person within whose heart the makings of the creature nestled.

 

Seti would do whatever it took to protect the Two Lands and the Pharaoh who was the land's heart -- for, without the Pharaoh, the land would surely perish.

 

Pharaoh had spent his every waking moment fighting the invaders: constructing strategies to enable his out-armed and out-armored soldiers to battle the invaders' forces, reciting prayers and spells of protection, conferring with his generals, even leading his army into battle -- the latter over Seti's strong objections. Pharaoh's efforts had borne fruit; despite the overwhelming odds against them, the armies of the Two Lands had not yet fallen to the opposing forces. But the struggle had taken its toll on the young Pharaoh. New lines of strain and exhaustion were etched between his brows and around his mouth. He had little time to sleep, and when he did, he was tormented by dreams. Seti wondered how much of this plan was the result of true vision, and how much was simple desperation.

 

Seti had prayed for deliverance from the evil that sought to destroy them and gain the power of the Shadows, but he was beginning to wonder if Pharaoh had lost the favor of his divine Father. All the supplication and offerings made in this and every other temple throughout the Two Lands had done nothing to rid them of the invaders, and so the destruction continued. Soon, there would be nothing left of their beloved land or the world beyond its borders. Even so, he could not condone what Pharaoh had planned. The Two Lands must be saved, yes, but not at the cost of their young sovereign's life or, worse, his hope for the afterlife.

 

His hand clenched around his Scepter. The Pharaoh's plan was audacious, desperate -- and perhaps their sole chance of defeating the invaders. It was also fatal, at least for Pharaoh. If he completed the ritual, the Two Lands would survive, but their Lord would not. Even worse, in exchange for the Shadows' power, and to seal their pact, a part of his soul would be bound within the Thousand Year Pendant. His soul incomplete, he could not go West to join the Justified Dead.

 

"I cannot let him do this," Seti murmured, his own desperation evident in the tightness of his jaw, the rigidity of his posture, and the clenching of his fist around the Scepter. Bad enough to let Pharaoh die when Seti, like all the Chosen Priests, was sworn to protect him, but to consign him to the true death of oblivion... Seti's heart constricted, the thought alone more than his heart could bear. "I _cannot_ \--"

 

"You have no choice."

 

The new voice was deep, commanding, and weighted with fatigue. Turning, Seti saw that the Pharaoh -- and Mahaad, his guardian -- had joined them at last. Dust streaked Pharaoh's slender form from head to toe. Blood and grime smeared his kilt, staining the once-pristine royal linen. A tear in one side of the kilt revealed a sluggishly bleeding gash on the Pharaoh's thigh. The striped cloth of a _nemes_ crown still covered his head, but the _uraeus_ \-- the golden cobra that should have rested upon his brow -- had been lost. Despite his bedraggled appearance, he was still every inch a King, his posture regal and unbowed, his dark gaze clear and determined.

 

"There is much to do and little time in which to do it," Pharaoh said as he strode into the chamber, the solemn figure of his guardian floating at his side.

 

Mahaad had merged his _ba_ with a Shadow Beast to form this new creature, this dark magician cloaked in strange robes and stranger armor. Even though he was no longer wholly human, Mahaad's single wish was to serve his Pharaoh as he had in life. In the absence of the royal guard Karoya, whom Seti assumed had perished in the collapse of the Great House, Mahaad now acted as the Pharaoh's bodyguard.

 

Pharaoh's gaze fell on Shada. "You have made the necessary preparations?"

 

"Yes, Your Majesty." Shada gestured toward the center of the room, where a massive block of sandstone had been aligned so that the sacred words chiseled into the flat top faced the western horizon, where Re entered the underworld and the Shadows dwelled. The stone was a new addition to the temple. Its sides were rough and free of paint, unlike the skillful depictions adorning the walls and ceiling of the room. "The workmen completed their tasks but an hour ago."

 

"Let us hope they did them well."

 

"Yes, we wouldn't want anything to go wrong with your suicide," Seti muttered, following Pharaoh's lead as he strode over to examine the stone that would serve as the altar for their ritual.

 

"Indeed." Pharaoh 's tone was as dry as the desert sands. He slanted a measuring glance at his priest before bending to peer at the dense lines of inscription. The hieroglyphs covered every inch of the top of the pale-colored rock. In the flickering light of the remaining lamps, Pharaoh's deep-brown eyes glinted with strange, red highlights. "We must not fail. We will not receive another chance."

 

"Your Majesty--"

 

Pharaoh's upraised hand silenced him. Lamplight glinted off the golden rings on his fingers. "No. There is no other way." He straightened and turned to his priests. When he spoke, he addressed them all, but his gaze was fixed upon Seti. "I must do this. My kingdom must not perish."

 

"Your kingdom needs you, Majesty," Seti argued, his blue eyes fierce. Pharaoh was the soul of the Two Lands. Without him, the land and the people would falter. They needed him, his strength, and his indomitable will, now more than ever. How could they hope to survive without him? Seti shuddered. "You _are_ Kemet."

 

"As you will be, when I am gone."

 

Seti's eyes widened. " _I_ \--?"

 

"I have no sons." Pharaoh's deep voice was filled with regret. "It falls to _you_ , brother of my heart. You must take up the double crown." A faint, somewhat sardonic smile touched one corner of his mouth. "You may find it an unwelcome weight upon your brow."

 

Seti bowed his head. He knew Pharaoh was right, but… They had been rivals since their first meeting, competing against one another even as children. Seti had always maintained that he was the superior warrior, duelist, scribe -- the best at whatever challenge the two of them tackled. He knew he _could_ be pharaoh. Still, he had never wanted his rival, his... friend... to die. He hid his grief behind an angry growl. "I would give my life for you!"

 

"I know." Pharaoh laid a slender hand on Seti's arm. The touch was a mark of high honor, as few were granted the privilege of the divine King's touch. "But now I ask you to live for me instead. You will do this and you will be a mighty Pharaoh. The Two Lands will prosper, all shall sing praises to your name." A brief hint of mischief lightened the grim determination in Pharaoh's eyes. "As if your sense of your own greatness was in need of further inflation."

 

Seti's eyes narrowed. "Stop trying to distract me. It won't work."

 

"Are you sure?" Smirking, the Pharaoh glanced down at the golden Pendant, an inverted pyramid hanging from the chain around his neck, and stroked his palm over the raised eye on the Pendant's face. "We have been through this argument before, Seti. There is no other way. I _must_ do this."

 

"If you must, then... you must not fail." Seti's voice was hoarse with strain. It dropped to a whisper as he continued, "And… _I_ will not fail _you_."

 

"You have always served me well." The Pharaoh's dark gaze swept the circle of priests. "As have you all. Now, I ask this final thing of you. Serve me -- and the Two Lands -- one last time."

 

The priests knelt again, demonstrating their loyalty and reverence for their sovereign by kissing the earth at his feet.

 

Pharaoh gestured for them to rise. "Shada, are all the Thousand Year Items gathered here?"

 

"We have recovered the Ring." Shada indicated the small bundle lying on the altar stone. "As well as the thief who stole it."

 

"And the Eye?"

 

"Gone." Shada bowed his head, lowering his gaze as he admitted his failure. "My guards found the traitor priest, may the Devourer feast upon his foul heart, but too late. Another found him first. The sacred Eye was gone. It may now be in the hands of our enemies."

 

Like the tomb robber, the traitor priest had forfeited his name when he committed his evil deeds. No one would speak his name; it would be stricken from official records, even from the walls of his tomb. His _ka_ would find no resting place and no offerings to sustain it. When he went West, he would join the unjustified souls that haunted the desert wastes. Fitting punishment for one who had betrayed Pharaoh.

 

"There is nothing to be done about that now." Pharaoh's voice was heavy with regret. "I would not leave even a single Item in our enemies' hands, but we cannot delay any longer. Will the ritual work without the Eye of a Thousand Years?"

 

  1. "We... believe so."                                                                                 



 

Seti's fierce gaze locked on the other priest. "You had best be certain, Shada. If the Good God--" Seti shot a less-than-reverent glare at Pharaoh and pointedly omitted the customary wish for his long life and health. "-- is determined to forge ahead with this folly, I will not have him throwing his life away for nothing."

 

"My visions have shown me that all will proceed as it must." Asetnofret stepped forward and offered the Pharaoh a graceful bow, her hands raised in the proper pose of adoration. "Your Majesty."

 

"Lady Aset." Pharaoh greeted her with a reserved smile. "Have you been granted a new vision?"

 

"Yes, Majesty. I believe I have foreseen your ultimate destiny."

 

He raised one elegant eyebrow. "And will you not tell me what you have seen?"

 

"I may not. But I will tell you this: what you do now will save the Two Lands from certain destruction."

 

"My Majesty thanks you, for your words and for your service."

 

"Your Majesty's courage will live forever." Tears glistened in her eyes as she backed away.

 

 _Must be the dust that still hung thick in the air_ , Seti thought, as he could feel his own eyes burning. Ignoring the urge to scrub at the gathering moisture, he growled, "If we are going through with this foolishness, let us have done with it."

 

A familiar smirk tugged at the corners of Pharaoh's mouth as he met Seti's accusing gaze with a knowing one. "Patience was never your virtue."

 

"Self-preservation was never _yours_ ," Seti shot back, his voice roughened by the unshed moisture he refused to acknowledge.

 

"So you have always told me." Pharaoh's gaze swept over the assembled priests. "Very well. Let us not keep Priest Seti waiting any longer."

 

Before Seti could respond to the jibe, Shada interrupted, turning to speak to the soldier still lurking in the background. "Bring the accursed thief. We will need him for the ritual."

 

The guard gave a curt nod, spun on his heel, and hurried from the room. He returned after a handful of heartbeats, shoving a prisoner before him. The white-haired thief's arms were bound at a painful-looking angle behind his back and wrapped with tight leather thongs at the elbows and wrists. He shouted a curse as he was forced to his knees before the Pharaoh. The angle of the thief's bound arms, and the guard's hand at his nape, made the thief kiss the earth, whether he wanted to or not.

 

"Unhand me, you fornicator of donkeys!"

 

"Silence, dung-eater," Kawab shouted, looming over the defiant thief.

 

With a sneer, Seti added, "Show the proper respect for your betters."

 

"Show me these 'betters' and I shall!" Turning his head, the thief spat at him.

 

Seti glared at the gob of spittle on his sandal. "Do we really need this piece of filth alive?"

 

"The evil-doer has bonded with the Ring." Shada's habitually impassive features twisted in disgust as he gazed at the kneeling prisoner. The prisoner glowered back at him. "We must use him to take Mahaad's place in the ritual."

 

"You are the evil ones, not me!" The thief strained against the bindings. The leather thongs bit into his flesh until blood dripped down his arms. "May Ammut take you all! May your rotting corpses be feast for the jackals, and your precious Pharaoh be violated by--"

 

A sharp blow from the guard silenced the thief. Shada nodded his approval. "Bind his tongue."

 

The guard ripped a strip of linen from the thief's filthy kilt and bound it over his mouth. His curses muffled by the cloth, the thief sagged against his bonds.

 

Shada turned to the Pharaoh. "Forgive me for not silencing him sooner. I should not have allowed his blasphemy to offend thy Majesty's ears."

 

Pharaoh laughed. It was choked and bitter, and short-lived, but it left a faint smirk on his lips. "Fortunately, My Majesty has far more pressing concerns."

 

"Of course. I--"

 

Pharaoh dismissed Shada's concern with a gesture. "We must hurry. The enemy gains more ground with each passing moment, and I fear an attack may bring this temple down upon us if we dawdle."

 

As if to prove the truth of his words, the temple shook from another impact. Asetnofret screamed as a huge chunk of the ceiling collapsed with a mighty crash, missing the sandstone altar -- and those gathered around it -- by no more than a hand's span. The air filled with dancing particles of plaster and stone dust that coated their bodies and choked the breath in their lungs.

 

When he had regained his composure, Seti tore his gaze from the gaping hole in the ceiling and, in a tone devoid of inflection, said, "Thy Majesty's will is accomplished."

 

No one but Seti saw the Pharaoh roll his eyes.

 

"Let us delay no longer," Pharaoh said, his demeanor as solemn and dignified as the occasion demanded. Almost, Seti could wonder if he had imagined the childish gesture. "The Shadows grow impatient."

 

Obeying the King's command, Shada directed the guard to take the prisoner to one end of the altar. Without another word, Asetnofret and Kawab joined them, stepping over the rubble to take up their own places on one long side of the stone. Shada reached for the cloth-wrapped bundle and took the Thousand Year Ring from its wrappings. The thief seemed resigned to his fate, putting up no more than a token struggle when Shada set the Ring's chain around his neck. Leaving the guard to make certain the thief kept his position at the foot of the altar, Shada moved to take his own place beside Seti. The top of the stone, where the Eye of a Thousand Years should have been, they left empty. Seti could but hope the ritual would succeed, despite the absence of the Eye.

 

When Pharaoh started toward the stone, Mahaad lunged from his place at the Pharaoh's side to stop him. Placing himself before Pharaoh and extending his staff, Mahaad barred the way, his determination not to be moved written in every rigid line of his body. Pharaoh closed his eyes as if to gather strength, then looked up to meet his guardian's solemn gaze.

 

" _Mahaad_ …"

 

Seti could not even begin to sort out the wealth of emotions carried in that single word. But whatever Mahaad read in it was enough to make him back down. Slowly, Mahaad lowered his staff. The angry scowl slipped from his features, an expression of utter sorrow taking its place.

 

Mahaad knelt before Pharaoh in full obeisance and whispered, "My soul will serve you forever."

 

"My friend... Forgive me." Pharaoh bent and raised Mahaad to his feet, then, with a gesture, banished him back to his stone tablet.

 

His expression stoic, Pharaoh rested his hands on the rough surface of the altar, gazing down at it for a long moment before climbing atop the sandstone and arranging himself at its center. He lay back, drew one deep breath, and then another. He tilted his head and held Seti's gaze for a long moment. Releasing it, Pharaoh began to speak. Soft at first, his voice gained strength as he continued. The spell was like nothing Seti had ever heard, the magic dark and alien, and terrifying in its power. He shivered with the realization that Shada was right: Pharaoh alone could command _this_ power.

 

As the first word fell from Pharaoh's lips, the Thousand Year Items began to glow. Soon, they were emitting a blinding, golden light. Raising his powerful voice to the heavens, the Pharaoh wove the spell that would destroy the invading armies, seal away the Shadows -- and take his own life.

 

-o0o-

 

The ritual was long, and passed in a blur, but Seti knew in his bones that he would never purge its terrible culmination from his memory. The scene had been seared into his heart, the image of the Pharaoh's last, tortured moments on earth burned into his memory where he was sure it would haunt his dreams until death claimed him.

 

Seti almost collapsed when the spell released him. His knees buckled and he fell forward, catching himself against the altar. The stone was slick beneath his palms. He jerked away and stared in horror at his hand. _Red_. His stomach lurched.

 

 _Blood_ … There was _so much_ _blood_.

 

The stone beneath the Pharaoh's body had been painted red with it. It saturated the porous rock, filling the carvings and running down the sides in scarlet rivulets to stain the faience tiles of the temple floor. His kilt felt clammy against his legs and, when he looked down at himself, he found the linen dyed red with the Pharaoh's blood. The blood mocked him, branding him for his crimes -- for his failure. It was his sworn duty to protect the Living Horus, the Lord of the Two Lands -- the man whose unbreathing body now lay shattered before him. He knew in his heart that he would bear the mark of that failure for the rest of his days.

 

The Scepter clattered against the tiles as it fell from Seti's nerveless fingers. He crashed to his knees, catching himself on his hands as he toppled over, face inches from the bloodstained floor. When he gasped for breath, his mouth and nose filled with the copper stench of death and he gagged, body and mind desperate to reject the stark reality before him.

 

 _I will not forget you, Majesty!_ The thought, the vow, was fierce, even as Seti felt the magic take hold of him again. _Your name shall not be forgotten, your_ ba _shall not be homeless, your_ ka _shall not perish_ \--

 

A burst of golden light, brighter than the noonday sun, lit up the chamber. Blind and trembling, Seti lost his precarious balance. He struck his temple against the side of the altar hard enough to make him cry out, but it was the thick stench of the blood and the slimy feel of it oozing down his face and neck, and underneath the beaded collar he wore, that made his _ka_ flee the horrifying scene. He heard an anguished scream and Shada's shout, or Kawab's, but the sounds were faint, as if they came from a great distance, and he could not bring himself to care. Darkness lapped at his thoughts like the River during Inundation.

 

Another heartbeat, and the current pulled him under...

 

-o0o-

 

When he awoke, he remembered everything that had happened. Everything…

 

 _The Pharaoh's deep voice, always so forceful, growing weaker with each word of the spell he uttered. His breathing, shallow and labored as the blood began to flow. The smell of the Pharaoh's blood, metallic and bitter, in Seti's nostrils and on his tongue. Blackness at the corners of his vision, the flickering of Shadows as the power fought its sealing, fought the Pharaoh, their struggle_ _literally ripping him apart_...

 

_To the very end, the Pharaoh gave no voice to his pain, though the words of the spell seemed to come harder, his lips trembling as he struggled to shape them. At the last, even he succumbed to the searing agony, as a part of his very soul was ripped from him and imprisoned within the Pendant, which shattered along with his body._

 

_His final breath carried with it a tortured scream._

 

In the silence that lay over the darkened temple, Seti could still hear the Pharaoh's scream echoing in his ears. He suspected it would haunt him for the rest of his days, waking or dreaming. That scream -- and the copper stench of blood.

 

 _Oh, yes_. He remembered everything, with a clarity that terrified him. _Everything_ …

 

Except the dead Pharaoh's name.


End file.
